


Love Doves, Studmuffins, and the Asshole Jon's Actually Sleeping With

by tuesday



Category: Pundit RPF (US)
Genre: M/M, Porn Battle VII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-01
Updated: 2009-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The supermarket tabloids are convinced Jon is having an affair with John Oliver and Wyatt Cenac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Doves, Studmuffins, and the Asshole Jon's Actually Sleeping With

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Porn Battle VII](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/394717.html) for the prompt "scandal."

"You know," Jon said, closing the door to Stephen's office behind him with one hand and waving a copy of the Enquirer with the other, "if I'm going to get reamed with an employee sex scandal, I'd at least like it to be for something I've done."

"Are they still on about you and John Oliver?" Stephen asked, leaning back in his desk chair and grinning his encouragement as Jon stalked closer.

"Now they're talking about Wyatt, too," Jon said and tossed the magazine on Stephen's desk.

"And how's Wyatt taking the news that he's your latest love dove?"

"Don't call it that," Jon said, looking torn between pain and laughter. He walked away from the desk a few paces, then back again.

"Oh, so that title belongs only to John?" Stephen asked. He wasn't sure if mocking the situation was helping Jon, or just making him more frustrated--but it was certainly helping Stephen cope, smiling down at the corner of the magazine cover where the words "Fake News Love Triangle?" were emblazoned over the three standing together.

"Yes, Wyatt's apparently my studmuffin," Jon said and finally threw himself down on Stephen's couch, stretched out over the cushions.

"I wonder when they'll get to me," Stephen said cheerfully. "They're obviously not going in alphabetical order."

Jon let out a strangled giggle and put his hands over his face.

"You should be happy you're a big enough celebrity for them to bother with this shit," Stephen said, standing to make his way over to Jon.

"Happy," Jon said darkly, and he still hadn't moved his hands, "is not what I'm feeling right now. If I'd known they were going to read the court transcripts from the divorce and descend like vultures--"

"You'd have what," Stephen asked gently, leaning down over Jon and carefully lifting his hands from his face.

"Asked Tracey not to mention the co-worker part of the gay affair," Jon said, quirking a crooked, not-quite-smile at Stephen. "Though the chances of her actually listening to me--"

"She'd have taken out a full page ad," Stephen confirmed.

Jon reached for Stephen, pulled him in so that he ended up on the couch, too, lying against Jon and pressing their cheeks together, so close that he could smell Jon's hair gel and aftershave, a spicy, clean scent. It was still fairly early in the morning, and Jon hadn't yet changed into a suit for the show. His sweatshirt was soft with use, and Stephen curled the fingers of one hand in it and the others in Jon's stiff, sticky hair.

"How long do you have before you need to be back at your studio," Stephen asked before pressing gentle, nibbling kisses along the line of Jon's jaw.

"Long enough," Jon said, hands already wrestling with Stephen's belt. "I locked the door," he added before Stephen could ask.

"I thought," Stephen said, trying not to laugh or stutter as Jon pulled down Stephen's slacks and boxers, "I thought you said you wanted the public to know."

"If it has to come out," Jon said, and it was unfair how his voice remained mostly steady as Stephen undid Jon's pants, hitching only a little as Stephen dragged the heel of his palm against Jon's briefs before he pushed up his hips so Stephen could pull them down.

Stephen knew his own smile had gone crooked, in danger of falling off his face, and Jon kissed him full on, slid his tongue into Stephen's mouth like it belonged there.

When Jon pulled away, he was frowning. "It doesn't have to--" He ran a hand through his hair, and it looked even more wild despite the hair gel, more wrecked. Jon's eyebrows slanted down, and the corners his eyes and mouth were pinched. "It's not a secret."

Stephen had wondered how long it would take them to have this talk, how many accusations of Jon molesting most everyone in his employee would be printed by various trashy gossip magazines before Jon would actually want to address this. Stephen sighed. "Yes, it is."

Jon trailed his fingers along the tendon of Stephen's neck, pressed his palm flat against the front of Stephen's shoulder. "It doesn't have to be."

Stephen wanted to take the offer, to grasp it with both hands and run with it. He wanted to be able to tell everyone that Jon was more than his producer, more than his casual friend. To have more than stolen moments locked in one another's offices or the occasional overnight at Stephen's apartment.

But Jon was only newly divorced, and though Stephen had been separated for going on a second year, he was still only separated. The current low-level media attention wasn't as bad as it might become if it became about two TV personalities instead of just the one. Stephen was rather surprised they hadn't made insinuations anyway. It made a better story, certainly. They could keep talking about abuse of power, but also speculate about all the previous jokes on their shows, about whether Stephen really had blackmailed Jon to get _The Colbert Report_.

And maybe if it had just been about Stephen, he could have gone with it. But it wasn't. There were the remains of Jon's reputation and both shows to consider.

So Stephen reached a hand down and wrapped it around Jon's dick, pressed tender kisses to Jon's neck and jawline. There was so much Stephen couldn't give Jon yet, couldn't do for him--they weren't going to have open dates at fancy restaurants or picnics at the park or baseball games; Stephen couldn't invite Jon to move in together or take him back to South Carolina to meet the extended family; there was no whirlwind Boston wedding in their immediate future--but Stephen could give Jon this, skin dragging slowly against skin, all teasing and fun. Stephen could grip more firmly, could, with a twist of his wrist, pull tiny little groans out of Jon that he muffled with his own open mouth.

And after, he could let Jon up and stretch out in the warm space he left behind, smile up at Jon as he climbed back onto the couch, over Stephen, to return the favor.

They didn't have much, but at least they had this, and no number of scandals or accusations or John Oliver staring after Jon in the corridor with his pretty puppy eyes could change it.


End file.
